


I Never

by ciaan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drinking Games, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-08
Updated: 2010-03-08
Packaged: 2017-10-07 19:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ciaan/pseuds/ciaan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean play I Never (Never Have I Ever, I've Never, whatever you want to call it). Written May 2007.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Never

Sighing into his beer bottle, Sam listened to Dean raving on.

"...I cannot believe you jumped in there after it," Dean ranted. "Are you trying to get killed? Sometimes you are so stupid, Sammy."

"At least I've never tried to make holy mud in the middle of a swamp," Sam cut in. "I mean, mud? That kinda contradicts the theological point."

Dean laughed and took a long swig. "I have." Yeah, well, obviously, that was why Sam had said it. The whole hunt had been a disaster, and they'd just barely pulled it off, no thanks to Dean. Sam felt certain he had saved the day himself, and Dean was just complaining about Sam's supposed stupidity because he was jealous. Dean leaned forward and picked up his slice of pizza. "Okay, my turn. Give me a sec."

The hell? It took Sam a moment to figure out what Dean was implying, and then he groaned. He just did not understand the way Dean's mind worked when he changed subjects like that. In fact, he suspected Dean's mind didn't work at all, times like these. "What? No, Dean. No way. Just go back to complaining."

Dean took a huge bite, jaws working furiously. "You started it," he mumbled through the strands of cheese hanging out of his mouth.

"I didn't start anything. You did."

"Whatever. My turn. Let's see..." At least Dean swallowed before he kept talking. "I've never gotten laid on an airplane."

"Well, I coulda guessed that."

"Yeah, but neither have you," Dean crowed. "Okay, your turn again."

"You're so juvenile, you know that?" Sam grumbled. "Some people have these things called conversations. Other people have these things called peace and quiet."

"And some other people actually have these things called a sense of fun."

Fine. If Dean wanted to be that way, Sam was gonna play. But he was gonna play to shut Dean up. "Okay, Dean. I've never had sex with a pink goat while riding an elephant in Antarctica. Happy?"

"Dude, who the fuck has? Be serious, Sam."

"First I have no sense of fun, then you want me to be serious."

"Exactly." Dean nodded like he'd actually said something, and Sam just shook his head. Dean would wind down eventually, he had to. Dean rapped his knuckles on his bottle thoughtfully. "I've never gotten it on with three women at once."

Ah, so they'd moved on to the subtle bragging part of the event. Well, 'subtle' was not the right word for it, considering Dean's grin. Sam took a bite of pizza. Maybe if he chewed long enough, Dean would lose interest and move on. Instead, Dean just stared at him, clearly waiting for him to say something. Eventually, Sam threw out the statement, "I've never made a girl come more than fourteen times."

Dean laughed. "Of course you haven't, Sammy."

"Note how I said 'more than'." Sam wondered how Dean could be so dense, how he could possibly not recognize Sam doing the exact same thing as himself just a minute later.

Raising an eyebrow, Dean asked, "You counted?"

"It's what she told me."

"And what were you doing?"

Sam stared down at the worn tabletop, jaw working. "Well..."

"You know, Sam, sometimes I wonder if you're actually a red-blooded human male, or if you're an android or something. How else would you have the patience to keep messing around like that for so long and not just get right down to it?"

"I'd hardly call that a waste of time, Dean. In fact, I wonder how you get laid at all."

"Hey, they're happy enough."

"There's a difference between 'happy enough' and 'taken to heights of ecstasy'." Sam took a long, slow sip, hopeful that he'd worn Dean out on this.

"'Heights of'...? What do you do, read Harlequins?"

"One word: Oprah." Maybe he should just leave, get up and go for a walk.

"Okay. Yesterday's episode of Oprah had this one guy mentioning getting splinters from having sex on the kitchen table. I've never done that."

Sighing, Sam took a drink. Damn all cheap furniture, he'd said it before and he'd say it again. Dean winced sympathetically.

Okay, back to Sam's turn in this game. "I've never had sex in the library stacks." Dean shook his head, and Sam laughed quietly to himself for Dean's failure to pick up on the subtle difference between the stacks and the carrels.

Maybe because of the laughter, Dean said the next thing like he was following Sam's tactic of exaggerating to the point where no one would have done it. "I've never had a man in a chicken suit walk in on me while I was tied to the bed with a red scarf, getting blown by a woman in a maid outfit with her thumb up my ass."

Unfortunately he wasn't exaggerating enough. Sam took a drink and muttered, "I hate Halloween."

"You're kidding, right?" Maybe it was the chicken suit. That had rather put Sam off.

But Sam just leaned back, resting the lip of his bottle on his chin. "Well, it might have been more pink than red. Does that still count?" This might be getting to be fun, judging from the shocked look on Dean's face. Yeah, maybe Sam could do this for a little longer.


End file.
